


only hope remains

by atriflewicked



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: F/M, Gen, Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 06:26:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atriflewicked/pseuds/atriflewicked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'You don't say,' Prometheus bites out through the gritted teeth, and she shoos the birds away. Pain makes him surly, and he is difficult to deal with as it is, always has been, always will be. Part of her relishes the power his punishment has given her - to bring relief or to withhold it - and she wields it with the cruel precision she's never deemed she has before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	only hope remains

"Well," Pandora drawls as she takes in his prone form, bloody and chained and  _naked_  (nothing she hasn't seen before), "This is underwhelming".   
  
"You don't say," Prometheus bites out through the gritted teeth, and she shoos the birds away. Pain makes him surly, and he is difficult to deal with as it is, always has been, always will be. Part of her relishes the power his punishment has given her - to bring relief or to withhold it - and she wields it with the cruel precision she's never deemed she has before.   
  
Perhaps, Prometheus did. He never thanks her, after all.  _Ungrateful son of a bitch._  
  
Still. His eyebrows unknit and the tortured frown marring his savage face slackens. Pandora moves to dab off the sweat of his forehead, but Prometheus twists away from her touch. As far as his chains allow, that is. "What do you want?" he snaps at her, ever the cross one, and Pandora sighs, yet doesn't lower her outstretched hand, doesn't step away.   
  
"Geez,"she says, "Looking good, Pandora. So nice of you to visit. How have you been? I am fine, Prometheus. Thanks for asking!" Prometheus scoffs, but lets her sidle closer, lets her swipe her fingers over the damp skin. She doesn't miss the way he leans into her palm, knows enough not to comment on it. Her husband is a proud man (well,  _a titan_ ), and even now, stripped off of all his privileges, all his dignity, even of his death, he remains the same. Exposing his weakness, no matter how small, would get her nowhere, and whatever he may think, she doesn't come here to fight.   
  
"You know", she offers conversationally, smoothing his dark hair, hard as wires they are and prickly, "Small talk can get you a long way. I might even be cajoled to bring you biscuits next time". He rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed now, and Pandora smiles. She delights in his annoyance for annoyance is not pain, and the fact that he can still feel something, something other than the perpetual agony he is cursed with, is encouraging.   
  
"Like I would take anything from  _you_ ," he says. The blow, though not unexpected, manages to dampen her mood and is that _spit_ on her dress?   
  
"No," she replies, a bit more vehemently than she intended, "Of course, not. And I wouldn't give them to you anyway. Even if you begged". Not that he would. Prometheus doesn't know how to beg, doesn't know how to ask or plead or compromise. With him there is only freedom and choice and  _the right to know._ All things noble, all things righteous and selfless and good. It makes her wonder why he married her in the first place, the lying treacherous snake that she is.  
  
 _You didn't need me, she wants to tell him, still don't, so why did you? Why me, the all-gifted, the all-giving, why marry me if you don't want any of my gifts?_  
  
"They are fine," she says, "Your pets. A bit miffed after the second world war, but fine. They'll get over it".  
  
Prometheus' brow creases. "War?"  
  
 _Yes, yes, one of the wicked things that climbed out from the box, one of the real nasties ._  
  
"Russians won, by the way. They got lucky. The winter was truly vicious. Lost more than a half of their own army though, but don't look a gift horse in the mouth, right?"  
  
He is angry now, she can tell, and anger is even better than annoyance, so Pandora is pleased.   
  
Her smile widens, and Pandora practically beams at him.  
  
 _Hate me, she wills him, hate me even though I've never opened the damned box. Epimetheus did, but he is your brother and you love him and you've never loved me, so hate me, let me have this much at least. I'll be the betrayer, the wicked one, the cursed one. I'll be Eve and Lilith and the snake. I'll let them tarnish my name, I'll let them curse the half of the human race that you crafted in my likeness because when all was said and done, I looked into the box and there was nothing, no hope for us, no hope at all, and it means that this will never end._  
  
Pandora stays with him until he falls asleep. Eagles won't return as long as she is here.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for Multi-fandom Ficathon at http://lynzie914.livejournal.com/
> 
> prompt: Greek myths, Pandora/Prometheus, so we let our back bones slip / 'til the arc spits from our fingertips / and we'll become a hazard in the rain


End file.
